


Preferential Trade Agreement

by rillrill



Category: Veep
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-15 22:51:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7242019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rillrill/pseuds/rillrill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe Dan underestimated the toll the campaign would take on all of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Preferential Trade Agreement

Maybe Dan underestimated the toll the campaign would take on all of them.

He’s seen Amy stressed, and he’s seen Amy apoplectically angry, and he’s seen Amy threatening to rip out the throats of half a dozen campaign interns. He’s never seen her like this. He’s getting convention flashbacks, in the most dire way. So he tells her to take the night off when they get back to Nashua from Loon Lake, tells Jonah to fuck off and let him handle the work back at the office. They both seem fine with that. Jonah seems fine with that. Dan is fine with it. He squares his shoulders and goes back to the campaign headquarters and buries himself in a pile of comm snafus with Richard and Jeff and the rest of the team behind him.

It’s when he gets back to the motel that it gets confusing.

He lets himself into his room and immediately hears two distinct forms of laughter. Which is strange, because he’s pretty sure Jonah’s the only other person with a key to his hotel room. As he walks into the shitty room, he shrugs off his coat and frowns at what he sees.

Amy’s sprawled on the bed – fully clothed, but her shoes kicked off across the room – with an empty glass in hand. She’s laughing. Jonah’s got a chair pulled up next to her, a drink on the bedside table. There’s a deck of cards between them and it takes Dan a moment to recognize that they’re playing Cards Against Humanity.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she’s laughing, “that’s too real, Jonah.” She takes a sip and glances up, and her face lights up. “Oh, fuck, Dan’s here. Fuck, shut it down, I can’t be seen having a good time with this radioactive pile of toxic waste in the room.”

Dan shrugs. “Silkwood showers aren’t one of the incidentals covered by the campaign.”

“Wouldn’t that constitute a problem, for you?” Jonah smirks, and Dan feels himself flush a little, gives him a pointed look – _Not in front of her_. But Jonah just smiles a little more smugly, a little more broadly, and adds, “Don’t be standoffish, Dan. Come sit down.”

Stiffly, he removes his suit jacket and hangs it in the closet, then loosens his tie and kicks off his shoes. “You two look awfully cozy,” he remarks as he rolls up one sleeve, then the other. Amy pats the bedclothes beside her as she takes another long sip of her drink. “Should I be worried about something? Did Jonah give you the flesh rot already? I mean, if it’s already progressed to your brain, that’s fine — maybe Selina will give me your job, but—”

“You should be worried about your candidate,” Amy says. She turns the cards spread across the bedspread around so that Dan can read them: the black card reads _My country ‘tis of thee, sweet land of_ :, and Jonah, ostensibly, had put down the answer _Not giving a shit about the Third World_. “Like I want to be reminded of Selina’s fucking Chinese peace talk nightmare when I’m trying to fucking relax, you know?”

“How do you even play this game with two people?” Dan asks. “Isn’t the point that you need someone else to judge? It’s a three-person activity at the very least.”

Jonah shrugs. “Yeah, we’re really just trying to pass the time,” he says. “Just putting down the worst thing that comes to mind. Get away from the campaign mindset. It’s fucking cathartic, Dan.”

“Like you need to tell me about catharsis,” Dan mutters. He swears he sees Amy and Jonah exchange a look, before they’re both collapsing into laughter again. And then a cold sweat is washing over him, the specific and peculiar feeling of being on the outside of a joke at his expense. He’s pretty sure he knows exactly what they’re laughing about.

Amy pulls herself together before Jonah does. “We all need a break, I think,” she says. “From the campaign. From the shit. Whatever.”

“ _Whatever_ ,” Dan says, clicking his tongue. “It’s like you’re not even the same person these days.”

“Maybe spending so much time around you two warped my brain,” she says. “I have no idea what I did to get sent here. At least there’s room service in purgatory.”

He lets one shoulder raise and then lower in a halfhearted shrug. “You don’t have to stay here. You can head back to D.C. any time you want. Not like you’re contributing much here, anyway.”

“Oh, fuck you,” she snaps. “This campaign was floundering harder than a fat guy on American Ninja Warrior before I showed up to save your asses.” Now he can swear she’s getting flirtatious, a smirk coloring the edge of her words, and he sneaks a look at Jonah, but doesn’t get one back. Jonah’s looking at Amy, his chin resting on his hand, elbow on the armrest. Dan could swear he looks distinctly turned on. Whatever the details, he knows Jonah well enough to read his cues; he’s clearly attracted to her. And why wouldn’t he be? It’s fucking _Amy_.

Dan clears his throat. “Then stay,” he says, and glances at Jonah again. _Now_ he’s looking back. “What are you drinking?” he asks, glancing at Jonah. “Your uncle was up my ass all night and I swear to God I’d drink kerosene if it took the edge off of being around that pompous shitstain.”

“We killed a couple bottles of pinot noir,” Jonah says. “Sorry. You can always go out and get something else...”

There’s a pause. Amy shifts on the bed, sitting up fully. She’s closer to Dan now, folding her legs up underneath her so that she’s essentially kneeling on the duvet. She places her empty glass on the nightstand beside Jonah’s, and Dan watches as Jonah’s gaze travels up her arm, up to her shoulders and the nape of her neck. Dan watches him watch her as she reaches back behind her head and fusses with her hair, shaking it down over her shoulders and running her fingers through it. It falls in a perfect curved line, parenthetical, a couple inches past her shoulders and she sighs a little as she leans back onto the bed, both arms behind her, broad shoulders thrust back, posture strong and knowing. “I need a haircut,” she mutters, apropos of nothing, and Dan clears his throat again, for sudden, desperate want of something else to focus on.

“I think your hair – it looks fine,” he says, and she glances at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Just fine?”

“No,” Dan says after a pause. “It looks beautiful.”

She purses her lips and her eyes flick to Jonah’s, and Dan sees him give her a short, nearly imperceptible nod. And then – he barely realizes what’s happening before Amy leans forward again and runs one of her slim, neatly manicured hands along the exposed underside of his forearm, and he feels a chill run through him, an electric jolt straight down the current of his spine.

“Well,” she says darkly, “I guess we’re fucking doing this.”

She’s biting her full bottom lip softly, and then her gaze flits to Dan’s mouth, and back up to his eyes, and then back to his lips. And she’s on her third round trip when Dan glances at Jonah, who gives him another short nod. And then he reaches forward and runs one hand softly along the line of her chin and jaw, before drawing her close and kissing her softly.

 _Holy fucking shit_ . It’s been so long since he’s done this with Amy, and for a moment he’s almost unsure of what to do, how to comport himself. But Amy and Jonah seem to be cut from the same cloth, because the kiss doesn’t stay gentle or tentative for long. She’s not girlish, not bashful; she bites down on his lower lip, and Dan moans despite himself, opening his mouth obediently. Her teeth are sharp but her lips are fucking cotton candy in comparison and there’s no stubble, no five o’clock shadow, she’s just soft and smooth and smells like some kind of spicy perfume. Dan slides his hand up to card through her hair as he cups her jaw with the other, and her hair is so fucking soft and blonde, and _he can’t believe this is happening_.

The bed depresses behind him and he pulls away to find Jonah has joined them on the mattress. Dan leans back as Amy and Jonah exchange a look, and then she’s leaning in to kiss Jonah, whose breath hitches as their lips make first contact. He’s more tentative with his hands at first, seems unsure of where to put them, but settles with one in the small of her back as he pulls her closer, seeming more confident. Dan’s never seen Jonah kiss anyone else before, has never observed his technique from the outside, and he watches with curiosity for a minute as Amy runs her hands along the sides of his face, framing his jaw with her fingers as he slowly reaches up to stroke her breast. She gasps and arches into his touch, and he seems almost surprised, taken aback by her reciprocity; he pulls back briefly and mutters, “You want me to—”

“ _Fuck_ , yes,” she says impatiently, and lets go of his face to unbutton her own blouse. Dan can only watch, somewhat spellbound, as she shrugs it off, revealing a sensible black bra. Christ, she’s hot, he thinks, as Jonah proceeds to grope the shit out of Amy Brookheimer.

There’s a moment where they both seem to be entirely lost in each other – she’s sucking on Jonah’s bottom lip, he’s struggling to unhook her bra – before they both, in tandem, draw back and start to laugh, in what mostly seems like horror. And then they’re looking back over to Dan, who can’t help it, he’s rubbing himself through his pants as he leans back into the pillows, almost content just to watch. She pulls away and reaches back to swat Jonah away from her bra closure, and he draws his hands away, fumbling, almost apologetically. Dan could swear he’s about to actually mumble “Sorry” before she pops it open one-handed and slides the straps off her shoulders, and then she glances back at Dan, smirking a little and beckoning him closer as he immediately sits up and follows the implicit command.

It’s not as weird as it should be, kissing down her neck as Jonah flicks his tongue across one of her nipples. Their heads are a little too close together, he can smell the wine on Jonah’s breath, but fuck, it’s hot. She’s inhaling sharply as he sucks at the pulse point beneath her left ear, and the inhale turns to a gasp as Jonah palms her other breast. Dan scrapes his teeth against her neck and he can guess by the way she’s moaning and shifting that Jonah’s doing the same. They’re like a team, a machine, the way they’re working her, and he should know this can’t last, that Jonah won’t let it stay so equal, but fuck, he’s—

“Dan,” Jonah murmurs. “I want you to sit in that chair right there.” His voice is low and rough, thick with arousal, and Dan’s already feeling foggy, so he nods and gives Amy’s collarbone a final, delicate kiss. There’s a gentle smirk playing on her lips as Jonah pulls away. Dan disentangles himself from their places on the bed and stands up, and then Jonah’s reaching out to unbuckle his belt. He doesn’t look at Jonah during this part. He’s already been here too many times, Jonah looking up smugly with his cock in his big mouth, all proud of himself for taking Dan to the hilt like it’s nothing. Instead, he locks eyes with Amy as Jonah eases his underwear down, watches her eyes slide halfway shut as she lowers herself back onto the bed, her skirt tangled up somewhere around her waist. She’s rubbing herself over her own underwear – they don’t match her bra at all and Dan always thought that was hotter – and biting her lip again as Dan chokes back a groan. He can’t pull his eyes away. Amy’s watching him like it’s the hottest thing she’s ever seen and Jonah’s mouth is so fucking hot and wet, and then, suddenly, he’s pulling away, leaving Dan hard but nowhere close to finishing.

“Jonah,” he says, the word coming out closer to a whimper than he’d like to admit. But Jonah laughs roughly, reaches up to unknot his loosened tie and yanks it out from beneath his collar. He pushes Dan into the chair.

“Hands out,” Jonah says, and Dan complies, eyes still locked on Amy’s. She’s rubbing herself a little harder, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of her underwear, and he can see her breathing a little harder as Jonah knots his hands together tightly with his red-and-blue knit tie. He places them awkwardly on his lap, near – but not touching – his dick, and Jonah raises both eyebrows as he does. “Don’t you dare touch yourself,” he says in a warning tone. “If you come without permission, asshole—”

“I won’t,” he says quickly.

Amy sits up. “Good,” she says, breaking into the moment. “Because I just want you to sit there and watch while I fuck this haystack of failure.”

Dan stifles an inappropriate laugh as Jonah’s face fucking lights up at this. Because for as long as Dan’s contemplated doing this, reopening the Brookheimer file for shits and giggles, he assumes it’s been substantially longer for Jonah, who can’t pull his eyes away from Amy as she reaches back to unzip her wrinkled skirt and then shimmies out of it. Rising to her knees, she pulls Jonah back onto the bed by his tie, pushing him onto his back as she yanks at it roughly and pulls it away. “Too bad,” she says, cocking one eyebrow wickedly. “We could’ve done one hand to each armrest—”

“Maybe later,” Jonah mutters. “You’ll want to be able to get him onto the bed.”

Amy smirks, and then she’s unbuttoning Jonah’s shirt, fingers moving deftly as she kisses him rough and bossy and dirty. It’s almost theatrical, on both accounts, and Dan grinds his teeth as he watches her pull Jonah’s dress shirt over his shoulders and yank at his t-shirt. He helps her get it over his head, and she doesn’t waste a second, kissing his neck and collarbone while she reaches down to rub at the bulge in his pants.

“Fuck,” Jonah’s muttering as she unzips his pants, “fuck, Amy, holy shit—”

“Yeah?” she says, smirking and pulling away. “You got something to say, asshole?”

“Just – keep going,” Jonah says, and Dan can’t help it, he can’t hold back a smile. It’s been so long since he’s seen Jonah truly come undone like this and it’s a fucking miracle to his eyes, seeing Amy undo him. She’s got his pants and boxers down to his knees before he bothers to help her out, and then she’s rolling her eyes, muttering, “I can’t believe I have to do everything—”

“Sorry,” Jonah says, and Dan snickers out loud before he can catch himself. Both their eyes snap to his, and he stops shortly, but not before Amy clears her throat.

“Do _you_ have something to say, Dan?” she asks, and he shakes his head.

“No. Uh, no, Amy.”

“Didn’t think so,” she says, pushing herself to a standing position on the mattress. Dan swallows as she begins to slowly slide her underwear down her legs, kicking it off onto the floor. It lands near the chair. He has to force himself not to stare at it. “I think you should try to keep your mouth shut for this next part, Dan.”

Jonah leans back on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows as she clambers back down onto her knees, straddling his crotch. He’s as hard as Dan’s ever seen him, and Amy raises both eyebrows as she grinds against him, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. It’s barely audible, but Dan catches the words—“This is a terrible fucking question, and I hate that I’m asking it, but—are you clean?”

“Yeah, I’m, uh, very monogamous—” Jonah says, sounding a little bit winded already, and she rolls her eyes and snorts. “I mean, other than this,” he adds quickly. “You are—”

“Yeah, totally,” she says. “All good.” But she falters, and then clambers off the bed, grabbing at Jonah’s discarded suit pants and rifling through it. Dan watches as she pulls out a condom packet, and screws up her face in irritation. “Magnums? Really? Fuck you, Jonad.”

Jonah smirks, opens his arms proudly. “They don’t call it ‘the Whale’ for nothing, Ame.”  
  
“Who are _they_ , Jonah? The staff at the free clinic in Adams-Morgan?” But Amy’s biting down on her lip again, her telltale sign, as she rips the condom packet and rolls it on over Jonah’s cock, which, fine, Dan admits — it’s big, bigger than his own. (Which means nothing, he reminds himself, with a helpless look down at his own erection and his bound hands in his lap.) And then she’s guiding her hand down to stroke his cock, and Dan isn’t sure where to focus as she guides Jonah into her, closing her eyes and gasping, her breathing going ragged as she slowly sinks down onto him in one smooth stroke. Dan can’t stop flexing his fingers, desperate to touch himself. He can _hear_ her as she finds a pace, steady but slower than he knows Jonah likes it. From where Dan’s sitting, he can only see her from behind, her ass rising and falling and the muscles in her back tensing as she fucks herself down onto Jonah’s length. But he can hear both of them breathing, panting, and then she leans down, falling forward to kiss Jonah and letting him thrust up into her hard.

“Fuck,” she’s panting, “fuck, that’s good—”

“Is it?” Jonah asks earnestly, and Dan can see her nod, her hair falling forward into her face.

“Shit, yeah,” she mutters, “you’re so fucking big, I didn’t expect—”

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Jonah cuts her off, “you know it—”

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up, or I’ll tell everyone you’re rocking a chode.” Her haughty tone is cut with arousal, though, and her argument is weakened by the way Jonah’s fucking up into her, harder and harder, their breathing mutually quickening. Dan can’t pull his eyes away. And then, without warning, Jonah’s flipping her over, pushing her onto all fours, manhandling her a bit like he does Dan, and turning them both around so that they’re both staring straight at Dan in his seat.

Fuck. He throws his head back, trying not to watch, trying to think about anything but his bound hands and his aching cock, but Amy throws out a sharp “ _Look at us_ ,” and his eyes snap back open as Jonah begins to fuck her in earnest, skin slapping against skin obscenely as he forces himself to watch. His gaze ricochets between Amy and Jonah, not sure where to focus.

There’s a crack of a palm against skin as Jonah smacks her ass once, hard, but not as hard as he often hits Dan, he can tell. Amy lets out a gasp and groans, “Fuck. Fuck you. I _hate_ that I liked that.”

“A little harder?” Jonah grins, and she nods, as if she’s forgotten that he’s behind her, can’t see her. Dan watches as she bites her lips, eyes sliding shut fully as Jonah spanks her again, once, twice, three times more. She thrusts one hand down to rub herself off, fingers moving nimbly, and it feels like only a few seconds before she’s gasping and Dan can tell – he can _tell_ she’s close.

“Don’t stop,” she groans, and Jonah doesn’t, but if she’s close, then so is Jonah, and Dan can read him even better. He slams into her, thrust after thrust, until her shaky gasps hit a peak, and then Dan can see him let go as well, biting out her name in a ragged tone as he thrusts in a few more times. There’s a moment where they’re both moving out of sync, and then Amy’s collapsing forward onto the bed, her arms giving out beneath her as she sprawls onto her front. Dan watches, trying not to move, still trying to think of anything but his own dick, because if he thinks about how hard he is, how turned on, he’ll need to touch himself, and then it’s game-fucking-over—

“Don’t think we fucking forgot about you, Danny,” Jonah grins as he pushes himself up, pulls off the condom and knots it, tosses it away. He's kneeling on the bed as he runs a hand over Amy’s pale ass, palming one of the broad, red handprints he’d left there. _Fuck_ . Dan knows from experience that they look just as good on his own ass, but _this_ is ex-fucking-ceptional. He shifts in his chair again as Jonah beckons him up. “I think you were pretty good just now, huh? What do you think, Amy?”

Amy rolls her eyes, nestling into the bed bonelessly. “Better than expected. I’m surprised. He actually listens to you.”

“He listens to _you_ ,” Jonah says, sounding equally impressed. “You earned a reward, I think, Dan. You wanna come clean up Amy for me?” He glances down at Amy briefly, almost as if he’s second-guessing himself. “You’d be into that, right?” he mutters, and she snorts and rolls onto her back, spreading her legs lazily.

“Big time,” she says darkly, and a smile breaks across Jonah’s face as he grabs at the tie binding Dan’s wrists. Dan feels his stomach twist as Jonah pushes him down onto the bed, and then he’s clumsily maneuvering himself onto his hands and knees, dipping his head and begins to kiss her inner thighs. It’s like riding a bike. He’d spent enough time doing this years ago that he’s still got the muscle memory, the take-Amy-apart instructions, hidden somewhere.

Fuck, though, it’s never been like this. He runs his tongue along the very edges of her cunt and all he can taste is the condom, Jonah’s presence, and it’s so distinctly new, unfamiliar, that it briefly throws him off. And then – _fuck_. One of Jonah’s big hands is on his cock, stroking him long and slow, teasing more than anything else.

“If you can make her come again,” Jonah murmurs into Dan’s ear, “I’ll let you come too. But _only_ if.” And Dan chokes back a moan as Jonah twists his wrist a little, in the way he _knows_ drives Dan crazy.

It’s almost fucking unbearable, the heat and scent and taste and sensation all melding into one, and it’s too much, almost too much, but in a way Dan feels entirely capable of handling without benzos or deep breathing. Instead, he does what he usually does, and focuses in on the task at hand, his focus singular despite Jonah’s best intentions to the contrary. It’s a new kind of humiliation, and one he’d never predicted, but he doesn’t want to stop; he needs to keep going, has to see this through, because Jonah knows him too well. Presenting him a challenge – it was almost too easy. He can’t stop now.

“Wanna use my hands,” he moans against Amy’s lips, and he hears Jonah chuckle, feels his hand on his cock tighten.

“Amy,” Jonah says loftily, “do you need Dan to use his hands?”

“I think he’s doing just fine as it is,” Amy says, and Dan groans, because he could bring her off so much easier, so much more quickly with use of them. But if they insist on doing this the hard way, then fine. He applies himself to it, flattening his tongue, licking her in long, broad strokes and listening intently to her breathing. He doesn’t go straight to her clit. _Fucking amateur hour_ , he thinks, as he teases her entrance, and Jesus fucking Christ on the Constitution, that’s weird, the taste familiar and strange all at once, like a familiar whiskey cut with a mixer he’s never had before. And then she’s moaning out loud and he can’t help grinning against her lips, because _shit, yeah, Egan’s still got it_. “Don’t you dare fucking stop, Danny,” she grits out as he slides his tongue in and out, in and out. And Jonah’s hand is still moving on his cock, and he can’t afford to pay it any attention, because Amy’s breathing is picking up and suddenly she’s got one hand roughly in his hair, dragging his head up just an inch.

“Right there,” she says, grinding her cunt against his mouth, and he doesn’t need to be told twice, flicks the tip of his tongue against her clit in a short staccato rhythm until she’s writhing and panting. And just as he can tell she’s hitting her peak, he pushes his mouth against her and sucks, and Dan can tell it’s the right move as her back arches and the hand in his hair tightens to a painful grip.

Amy lets out a final sharp cry, and then melts back into the mattress, her hips still trembling softly. And then Dan’s all too aware of his cock again, Jonah’s hand on it beginning to speed up, and it’s so much, he’s not going to last long, not at all—

Jonah pushes him onto his back, and Dan lets him, falls down next to where Amy’s sprawled out and stares up at Jonah as he jerks him off, using his other hand to undo the tie and free Dan’s hands. It’s not soft and it’s not fucking romantic at all, the way Jonah’s grinning at him like he’s won some kind of fucking lottery, and Dan can’t really move but he reaches out and rests a hand on Amy’s thigh, gripping it hard as Jonah strokes him harder. And his breath is uneven, and Jonah’s not slowing down, and he doesn’t have the energy to fucking beg for it but Jonah’s not going to make him, he wouldn’t, he can tell.

“Can I?” he forces the words, and Jonah nods, twisting his wrist on the upstroke, and then he’s coming, wrecked, unable to stop it, coming onto his own stomach and digging his fingers into Amy’s soft skin as he chants out a litany of _Fuck you fuck off thank you fuck you_.

And Jonah works him through it until he’s finished. Wipes his hand lazily on the hotel bedspread before he collapses as well, winding himself around Dan and reaching an arm out to pull Amy closer to both of them. She turns over agreeably, still looking too fucked-out to argue or complain, even though Dan has never experienced or even taken her for a cuddler. She folds herself around Dan’s other side, nestles her head into the space between his shoulder and neck, and as Jonah kisses him softly on the forehead, Dan allows himself to close his eyes, and thinks that he’s never felt this _known_ in his life.

It’s almost worth how much he knows he’ll regret this tomorrow morning.

 


End file.
